Music and people hold my life together. I describe experiences, discoveries and insights, often connected with music and with teaching and playing piano. The blog is a way to stay in touch with friends, and may also be food for thought for anyone else, especially people connected with music and the piano/
Musik und Menschen halten mein Leben zusammen. Ich beschreibe Erfahrungen, Entdeckungen und Einsichten, oft in Zusammenhang mit dem Klavierspiel und dem Klavierunterricht.

Monday, November 13, 2017

The announcement of the program that would open MusicaViva NY’s 40th anniversary concert season made my heart sink. The Wheel and the Sphere – Orff’s CarminaBuranaand Connesson’s
Sphaera. The second title and its composer didn’t tell me anything.
Alejandro has taken us on a tour de force of contemporary music since he became
our conductor two years ago. This is probably another stop on the tour, and we
have discovered some amazing treasures on the way.

But Carmina Burana is
my all-time least favorite of all choir pieces. I’ve heard
it in concert, and I was tempted to walk out of the performance, because I
found the piece so primitive, vulgar, silly and most of all, fake. Bartok, for
example, can do “primitive” really well, I think. There’s something earthy, grounded,
authentic about it that’s captivating. But Orff…. fortunately, I’ve never had
to sing the piece.

I’ll stop right here, out of regard and respect for all the
people who are enthusiastic about Carmina,
and admit that I’m prejudiced. Growing up in Germany, I had Orff coming out of my ears by
the time I reached 4th grade. We happily plunked away on little
glockenspiels, xylophones, triangles and woodblocks. It was kind of fun,
especially if you hit the right note at the right time, but it came across as
music education rather than real music. It didn’t feel like much at all. And
for some reason the educational stigma has attached itself to Carmina as well.

Submitting yourself to an experience you don’t care about
can be an eye-opener. Since it can’t get worse than what you expect, it can
only get better. And if anyone can save the piece for me, it’s our choir
director Alejandro Hernandez-Valdez.

The first pleasant surprise: blunt and straightforward has
its advantages. Once you know what’s up, it’s a piece of cake compared to some
of the repertoire we’ve sung before. I’m at an advantage, regarding the pronunciation
of the German Latin and the scraps of Middle High German. The music doesn’t
allow for resistance. The catchy rhythms draw you in. It’s even lyrical at
times, like in the beautiful Kum Geselle
Min, a folk tune. Before long I find myself humming bits and pieces as I
walk to the bus station after rehearsal.

Daniel Kirk-Foster and Trent Johnson took
turns accompanying the choir rehearsals on the organ, because rehearsals take
place in the organ loft. Both organists are true masters on their instrument,
but I’m sure neither of them regretted handing over to the pianos during the
final rehearsals before the concert. Margaret Kampmeier and Nelson Padgett work the two pianos with precision and virtuosity, to a
point where you wouldn’t be surprised to see steam rise from under the lid. A
big boom from Sandbox, the
four-member percussion ensemble reverberates through the sanctuary and swallows
everything else. Adjusting to the acoustics of the empty space is a challenge.

Many words at record speed

Pianos and percussion become like a machine, the “machine”
that drives Sphaera. The lyrics are taken from a Latin poem by
Richard Crashaw.The
17th century British poet was drawn to metaphysical ideas, and his
poem discusses the central presence of the spheres in human experience. Guillaume Connesson (*1970 ) composed the piece twelve years ago, but it has never
before been performed in New York. The harmonies of the piece are intriguing,
and the relentless rhythmic drive is clearly inspired by Carmina. It takes the lead and drives us on, and to the point where
we start driving each other. We exceed the speed limit, and Alejandro brings us
to a halt just before everything crashes.

Rehearsal in the sanctuary

It’s a very fine line that separates enthusiasm from chaos,
and the magic ingredient that keeps it manageable is control, discipline, not
letting yourself get away, paying attention, staying in tune with the whole.
All threads come together in the hands of the conductor. And fortunately, we’re
in excellent hands.

It’s much easier to hear each other at the concert the
following day, in front of a full house and an enthusiastic audience. The
sounds of Sphaera fill the space.
Thefourteen-minute piece sends out
concise, intense surges of energy. It passes by so quickly I’d want to do it
again when it’s over.

The prospect of standing through all of Carmina seemed a bit daunting at first,
but once we get started, everything turns into music. Effect is important. You
don’t want to come in early or straggle behind when a long note is cut off at
last. The only way to make it work: follow the conductor, who inspires total
confidence. I no longer think about my feet, even during the parts when soprano
and alto are not singing. Shawn Bartels is hilarious singing the lament of the roasting swan; tenors and basses eagerly follow “abbot”
Steven La Brie’sirresistible
invitation to enjoy their time at the tavern. And Alejandro was right, their
drinking song does sound like the Comedian Harmonists.

Alejandro explained to us that he intends a performance that
clearly distinguishes the three parts of Orff’s work. Within each section, one
piece quickly follows the other so that they merge into a scene. If there is
anything “educational” about Carmina,
Alejandro’s interpretation shakes it out and fills it with life to the last
note. Devony Smith’sandShabnam Abedi’sbeautiful voices mesmerize everybody as
they rise far beyond the comfort range with total ease and confidence in their
lyrical solos in the third part, which praises the pleasures of love.

“O fortuna – o fortune, like the moon you are changeable,
ever waxing and waning. Hateful life first oppresses, and then soothes as fancy
takes it; poverty, and power, it melts them like ice.”

Pre-concert talk

Images, evoked by Alejandro’s pre-concert talk rise up in my
mind as we sing the last piece. It’s a repeat of the beginning, as if
symbolizing life in the grip of fate. Despite its exuberance the work has a
dark undertone. It was composed in 1936 and premiered at the Frankfurt Opera on
June 8, 1937. In Germany, the process of inner destruction was in full swing.
Millions of lives would be extinguished in its course as it turned outward,
millions more damaged beyond repair, and much of central Europe reduced to
rubble.

In the face of uncertainty Carmina Burana celebrates life and love. In spite of everything
they have prevailed so far. To celebrate them while we can, may be the best we
can do, not knowing how close we stand to the abyss right now.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

A special birthday calls for a special kind of celebration. But
when Raj Bhimani, who has been Seymour Bernstein’s student for thirty years,
asked him what we could do for his 90th birthday, he said he didn’t want
a birthday party, or a reception, not even a festive dinner. Raj is a wizard
not only at the piano but also in the kitchen. Seymour knew what he was
turning down.

One of Raj's culinary creations: the wedding cake for a cousin.

Time gets increasingly precious as you get older. Ninety
years of a life rich and fulfilled provide much food for thought, and Seymour
insisted on spending April 24th 2017 by himself, immersed in reflection. “I
still can’t identify with being ninety, and I’m already past it now,” he told
me at my first lesson of the new teaching season two weeks ago. I found him as
vigorous, enthusiastic and full of life as he was in October 1997, when I came
to his studio for the first time.

The only celebration Seymour did accept was a concert
featuring his own compositions for the piano. The event opened this year’s
concert series of the Leschetizky Association last Sunday at the TENRI
Cultural Institute in New York City. The association connects musicians
dedicated to the legacy of the great pianist and teacher Theodor Leschetizky
(1830-1915).

When Seymour was in his teens, he studied with Clara
Husserl, who had studied with Leschetizky in Vienna. Leschetizky had studied with
Czerny, and since Czerny studied with Beethoven, we’re all related to him as
pianists, as Seymour always says. Raj told the story before the concert began,
and as if he had conjured up the spirit, the artistry and beautiful tone that
characterize the tradition were palpable in the playing of even the youngest of
the thirty-two performers.

The program

Seymour Bernstein’s piano works are music that is written
from the heart. They reflect what Seymour values most in music and in
performing: the expression of deep feeling. The composer’s face was beaming
with pleasure, assuring everybody that the concert was the perfect gift.

Into his old age, he has preserved the wonderment of the
child, still capable of being awestruck by seemingly small things, and the
miracles of nature. The two “Birds” Suites – impressionistic studies inspired
by birds - are among his most popular teaching pieces. Everybody broke out
laughing when Seymour told the audience how he was on occasion referred to as
“the bird man” or “Seymour Birdseed.”

Seymour has written many pieces for young piano students:
Köchel and Sheila, a story suite about the two Siamese Cats he used to have,
and story suites about the creatures that keep him company during his summers
in Maine: Racoons,andBelinda, the Chipmunk.

The concert featured many young performers, who arrived
early from all over the city and beyond to rehearse on the piano and get used
to the space. That made for a long afternoon, but they all awaited their turn
with patience and listened to the other performers attentively, proud to be
part of the special event that had taken months to prepare.

Seymour signs scores after the concert

Planning for the concert and the program began in May. It is
a challenge for young children to live with repertoire for such a long time. Nicholas,
Sophia and Jasper performed the “Out of this World Suite” at our studio recital
in June, but it did become a little rusty over summer break. With three weeks
to go until the concert after school began in September this was not the time for a slow
start.

“They are completely in the music,” I thought when Nicholas
coaxed the last note of Whispers from
outer Space from the piano, very softly, but with great intensity. Sophia
had the Meteorites tumbling head over
heels while keeping perfect tempo. The secret to artistry is control, and Spaced Out was never so convincing.
Jasper observed the full rest before the last phrase of Reaching for a Star, and the Martians
slid down moonbeams with great elegance, even though he forgot the mitten at home that I
had him use to protect his fingers during the glissandos.

Nicholas, Sophia und Jasper (at the piano) perform the Out of this World Suite

Every single performer did his and her best during this
memorable concert. Some stick out in my memory, like Adam Jackson, who wowed
everybody racing The Centipede across
the keys just below the speed limit.

Twenty years ago, Seymour composed Rhapsody on Two Names for the wedding of
Lindsay and Javier Clavere.“We are
still married”, Lindsay assured the audience, before she and her husband performed
the piece in perfect synchronicity.

With their stunning rendition of the last
movement from Seymour’s Concerto for our
Time, Dorothy Grimm and her student Ulysses Squitieri conjured up smiles
and chuckles, as people recognized familiar tunes from repertoire that everyone
who ever learnt to play the piano has had under their hands. Seymour has woven
them skillfully into the piece, and I can picture him at the piano in his
studio, having fun while creating the music.

Beaming faces after the concert

All the performers

His humor, his kindness, his generosity and his wisdom reflect
in his music. It brought people together who had never met before, and made
everybody feel like family. I join Zelma Bodzin, the new president of the
Leschetizky Association, in the heartfelt wish she expressed at the beginning
of the concert: “Seymour, please continue to have birthdays for many years to
come.”